CHAPTER 3 - Strange World

"See I'm a young soul in this very strange world

Hoping I could learn a bit 'bout what is true and fake

But why all this hate? Try to communicate

Finding trust and love is not always easy to make."

- Yael Naim "New Soul"

Edward

I know what I'm doing, more or less.

Always.

I don't necessarily always have what you could call a "plan", but I'm good at making one up as I go.

And believe me, I go with the best of the best, at least the best of the best according to my book.

Fast. Hard. My way.

I go.

Because it's life, and it's meant to be lived, and I'm living it. I suppose that's just how my parents raised Alice and I.

To live.

I know what my life looks like to outsiders and I'm fully aware of how I act. I'm a smart guy. I don't have many close friends, ok any close friends, because I choose not too. Friends ask questions, require commitment. I hadn't ever desired that before. Perhaps the caliber of people I was hanging out with previous to moving to Seattle was low. They weren't worth the effort. Who knows?

I've been content with Alice being my best friend for practically my entire life. She's the only person who's been able to handle me, all of me, just as I am. I love that, and I return it to her. That's how we've become so close over the years. I seriously give it about 2 weeks before she decides to move to Seattle with me. She's holding out moving right away, because I told her she would give in eventually and she likes to try to prive me wrong sometimes. But she'll be here. Like I said: two weeks. We've tried living apart before, and it just doesn't work for us. We've built a support system that we thrive on. She's a great little sister and accomplice, and nowhere near perfect. She's annoying, pushy, easily excitable, and a babbler at times, sure. But, hey. We all have our flaws.

And I like her being a major part of my world. She's got style, and I'm not just talking about her flare for everything fashion related.

In my world I'm King, and I like it.

I like my family, my car, my hair, my talent, my red shoes, my immaturity, my solitude, my attitude, my life.

Because it's all mine.

And I really like that.

It's always been enough to keep a smile on my face and a beat in my heart. My whole entire life has centered around pleasing me, and me only. I've never been a bad guy per-say. I don't hurt people intentionally or go out of my way to make things difficult. But I've probably become more selfish than most. And it's worked for me. Kept me happy, kept me 100 percent satisfied, without really trying that hard.

Until her.

Isabella Marie Swan.

Bella.

Bella Marie.

Bella Swan.

Bella Bella Bella Bella...

No matter how many different ways I threw around her name inside of my head, thrilled that I actually knew all of it now, I really only thought one thing:

Mine mine mine mine...

Yeah. We've covered the part where I'm probably too selfish.

I have been suffering from my worst bout of selfishness ever since the first second I laid eyes on Bella, a few weeks ago at Mike's party. It was like a giant bautiful brick that hit me in the head, informing me that I hadn't been truly happy until I knew she existed. It's weird and fairy tale-ish, but it's true.

I entered the party late that night two weeks ago, with Alice by my side as usual, since she insisted on helping me move. We were fighting about if we should unpack my CDs or my clothes first when we started in on the boxes the next day before our flight back to Chicago. When I greeted Emmett and his evil girlfriend, who Alice already knew, I was normal, everyday Edward.

Then we turned the corner, passing by the living room from the entry hall, and I became a very different Edward.

I'm not exactly sure why I came out of my thoughts and looked up when I did as we walked past the leather couches lined with the small Rockband audience. All I know is that when I did, I saw a stunning girl sitting on the larger ofthe two couches. She was laughing at a dark skinned kid with long hair and unknowingly changing my life. I still can't pinpoint what it was about her exactly that was so stunning. It just hit me. That brick of change. The Bella Brick.

I forced myself to keep walking by and tear my eyes away from every instantly tempting thing about her, because I was so confused and overwhelmed by what was hitting me. In a matter of seconds this girl I'd gotten one glimpse of was claiming me. At that time, in the moments following spotting her on that couch, I didn't even fully understand the reality of that.

But she had me. My attention and my desire.

I had to have her.

I'm used to beautiful girls catching my attention. They usually are doing it entirely on purpose, too. I attract girls, many girls, all the time. It's been that way since high school and if I take after my father's good aging genes, I probably will continue to attract them for years to come. Most people would not look at this as an issue.

Most people aren't me.

The majority of the female population is fun for a night or two, possibly a week or so, but never much more than that. They all bore me, eventually.

Maybe a lot of it has to do with my closeness to Alice, and how accustomed I am to her originality. I've learned over and over again that after a few days all girls become predictable. I've lived in a few different palces, bustling cities and rural countrysides both, and they've all turned out the same more or less. I don't use them for sex, I'm not like that at all. I've only ever made love to one woman, actually. I use them for company. To fill the minor voids of lonliness that even the most indepedant person can't escape. I use them for the small amount of time they have mystery or wit.

None of them caught my attention so strongly right off the bat like this new girl, this Bella creature that I happened upon at a random party. I don't even have any idea what she did to grab it, either.

I immediately set my new plan into motion, notifying Alice that her new duty of the night was to speak to this girl. Get information from her, become best friends with her, propose marriage on my behalf... anything along those lines. Alice, the closest thing I've ever had to a wingman since no guys have ever really been trustworthy enough, laughed, patted my arm, and said, "Ok, Edward," in the way that meant she'd do it, but she thought I was insane for my colossal immediate reaction.

Sometimes when I jump right into things I overwhelm others around me. They think I'm dramatic. I think I'm passionate.

Oh well. Fast. Hard. Go.

That's how I do life.

That's how I was going to do this new lovely mystery.

For the next small span of time I stood in the doorway of the living room silently, just watching her live. It probably looked creepy, but I couldn't really give a shit. I was too busy studying how she seemed to be hiding something from the rest of the room, a little freaked out that I felt like I understood the secrets in her facial reactions so well. I worked very hard to stop myself from smashing all of Newton's nicely framed pictures hanging on the wall next to me when the long haired boy ran a hand through her hair.

Naughty-naughty Indian boy. Mine.

I fled to the backyard when I got too close to making a scene about how beautiful her eyes were or how the Indian was about to get his hands ripped off. I had to refuse to play Rockband with Emmett repeatedly when I passed him on my way out, using truthful excuse, "I'm a real musician, thank you very much".

I walked straight to the center of the gazeebo when I reached the outside, entranced by the bright, fantastic glow of the thousands of tiny lights strung there. I studied them to give my mind something else besides her to focus on, committing the sight to memory so I could transfer it to canvas accurately later on.

After what felt like a mere few minutes of being outside alone calming myself, Bella herself walked outside, breaking my solitude and forcing me to fiddle with the lighter in my pocket. I didn't look at her like I felt compelled to do but instead at the small black object in my hand. I toyed with it, trying to decide whether or not I should go over and offer her a light. Or rather, a second light because she'd surely already lit her clove. I smiled privately, imagining myself walking over to this mysterious woman and offering to light her already lit cigarette. She probably would have looked at me like I was batshit crazy. I probably would not have denied it.

I suffered through my indecision for a good five minutes while I leaned against a beam of the gazeebo, pretending that I didn't feel a crushing urge to consume the girl across the yard. None of it made any sense, and that's what triggered my hesitation. I don't do hesitation. I do jump in-balls to the wall. But hesitate I did because this was muy importante.

I knew that going over and talking her would result in one of two situations:

1. She really would be very sweet, and sort of funny, and perfectly good company for a night or two. We'd laugh, we'd smile, we'd kiss and touch. We'd maybe even pretend we could feel love for each other like so many people like to do. Then she'd end up like the rest of them. Boring and uneventful. Her deep brown hair would fade to mud as the spark in her fused out. And, unsurprisingly, she'd turn out to have no real opinions or personality.

2. She'd be just as enigmatic as she literally feels to be when I look at her. She'd be new and refreshing and unpredictable and mine. Everything I've never found before. Everything Alice was sad I've given up on.

I wasn't ready to face either of those results, honestly. Frightened is not something I'm very used to feeling, so I was allowing myself to really experience it. I knew I'd have to make a move tonight, she pulled me to her too much not to, but I needed to stall a bit longer.

I waited too long for my window of opportunity out on the lawn to remain open. She went back into the house so I set my newest strategy into action. I saught out Alice immediately and notified her that the moves had to be made now, by her, because I was uncharacteristaclly being a coward.

The rest is history, I suppose. Alice found Bella. And fate, or something related to it, trapped her alone in a dark room, waiting for me even though she had no idea that's exactly what she was doing.

After that night she was in my veins. Literally running through my bloodstream, pushing my life through me. And I couldn't imagine ever wanting her out. It felt good to me, having my every fiber centered on her. I'd been waiting for something like this my whole life, I realized. I was ready to jump in.

I can't pretend that I'm not pissed as hell that some d-bag guy apparently messed up her heart not too long ago. It's tragic, really, the amount of time he's forced me into when it comes to waiting for her.

Not that I'm not going to do it. I am. I have to. As much as she is mine, I am hers.

It doesn't mean I have to fucking like waiting.

I really don't.

It's kind of a new adventure, though. I've never really had to wait before. Never really had anything worth waiting for.

It was practically impossible to stay put in the unimaginably comfortable chair I'd claimed as my bed. I rubbed my eyes fully awake and then sat and stared at her sleeping form. Fighting my stronger wants, I did stay dutifully in my place. Because I promised Bella that I would respect whatever she needed of me, and I meant it. Even if I couldn't touch her everywhere or anywhere like it seemed vital to do.

I may be a selfish bastard, but I'm not insincere. That would be tasteless.

I marveled at the fact that I was even here, in her room, smiling widely at the thought. My two weeks in Chicago were brutal. I lost the damn pink thing she gave me with her number on it, and I nearly pulled all of my hair out when I couldn't find it. Alice had to woo me out of my brooding by taking me to a show at the Metro where I chilled out to the sounds of local musicians and buzzed, happy 20 somethings. I snapped out of it that night and acted like a real person again, for Alice's sake.

The charade kept up until the wonderful moment I caught sight of Bella at Mike's place again. I think my heart literally stopped when she finally came into the backyard. I raised my hand, surprised I could still communicate things from my brain to my limbs with a dysfunctional heart, and waved at her. Relief of her beautiful presence flood through me, as if my bones were breathing in fresh air.

Then she ran. Ran off with that foul Indian boy.

My insides had freaked out. It felt like my stomach was lassoing my kidneys with my small intestine. Wild imaginings of that boy touching my Bella overhauled my mind. I didn't want to freak out. I didn't want to have these uncontrollable feelings for a girl I didn't even really know. But I clearly didn't have control over what I felt for her. I'd already accepted that.

So I let it happen, bore through it, and tried not to smash my new bff Pancakes into a wall when they re-emerged from the house, thankfully not looking sexed up but still touching the shit out of each other with their hands, and knees, and shoulders and.... and I just couldn't take it after a while so I left.

My mind raced as I ran the 3 blocks that separated Mike's condo from my apartment. I was afraid of the obvious: Maybe I was the only one willing to jump into this thing. Maybe while I was gone Bella realized she wasn't up to figuring out whatever the hell super natural thing we had between us, and how to deal with it. Maybe she'd chosen the easy way: Chief Black Hair.

I dug my feel into the pavement and screamed once or twice, confused or more so enraged, and handling even that extreme emotion in the only way I knew how.

All the way.

When I returned to my apartment (that I had recently found to be only a block away from Bella's, thank you drunk Newton) I gave into the sinking feeling of her chosing him.

It took a whole bottle of generic tequila for me to remember that we had no choices in this. She couldn't choose him. I sat at my window, staring out into the rain, letting the realization sink into me just as the alcohol was.

It was me. I was hers.

So I went to her, jubilant at my epiphany.

I climbed the large ass tree who's branches reached mercifully straight toward her bedroom window (minor stalking techniques were involved in my plan, yes). I grabbed and pulled at the tree drunkenly and determined, cursing it wrongfully seeing as how it was acting as my only alliance so far in this screwed up game.

I froze my ass off in the rain, and won my prize.

Time. With Bella.

I reached over and grabbed a notebook off of her cluttered desk and started ripped pages out, tired of waiting for her cute ass to wake up on her own.

I threw the first paper ball at her head, but I was still sleepy and my head hurt from the cheap crap I drowned in at my window the night before, so I missed.

I tried again, this time landing one in the wild nest of brown hair I liked entirely too much.

Number three was the winner, hitting her directly in the center of her right cheek.

She made a muffled noise of upset and then continued to lay there, all cute and alseep and not talking to me.

Her criminal behavior had to end.

Number four hit her on the forehead.

Her eyes started to flutter open and my heart started doing the same.

It sounds really lame, but I'd given up trying not to be a fruit about it. I reacted in rather large, strange, new ways to the girl. There was just no denying it. If this is what it felt like to find "the one" then, shit, I was all in. This wasn't all that bad, really. I actually found something in this great big world that made me giddy.

I was actually pretty excited over the whole thing, besides the part where she's so fucking fragile from that douche James who broke her heart.

I still had yet to hear the story of Douche James and the Heartbreak that ruined Edward Cullen's Game. I'm sure whenever I get the epic retelling I will be none too happy about this guy. I hope he moved far, far away. I'd like to break one of his limbs for everything he did that made that sad, detached, scared look shoot through Bella's eyes.

I threw one more paper ball, harder than the ones that came before it. It hit her on the forehead again, finally waking her up.

I was still sort of surprised at how much I liked her eyes. I'd never really cared about a girls eyes before.

"Morning, sunshine. My head hurts and I'm hungry. Get up and take care of me."

She blinked at me a few times, pretty damn adorably, and then looked around her paper ball ridden bed. I watched with glee as the fire swept up into her eyes. Riled up was quite the sight, let me tell you. She got all passionate and sarcastic. I loved it.

"Were you throwing things at me?" she asked incredulously, holding up one of my paper cannons.

"Your chair is so comfy and I'm not allowed to touch you. How else was I supposed to wake you?"

"You weren't supposed to," she replied, narrowing her eyes before turning her face into her pillow.

No-no Bella Swan. Don't hide your pretty face from me. It's mine.

I balled up another paper ball and chucked it across the room, hitting her in the back of the head.

"Go home," she mumbled into her pillow, unconvincinly.

"Make me breakfast," I responded, just wanting her to turn around and look at me again.

She turned her head from her pillow and snarled at me, making me smile widely.

"How do you even know I can cook?"

"Uh, I don't. I'm fine with cereal, though. Or a cheeseburger, or chicken parmesean, or scrambled eggs. I'm hungry and I need something in my belly to soak up all that damn tequila you made me drink last night. But it's not really about the food. I just want to have breakfast with you."

I watched the emotions fight for dominance in her eyes. She ventured from agner to annoyance and finally into approval, I'm assuming over my honest desire in the company I ate with, not the content.

"I'm a damn good cook, you lucky bastard," she grumbled with an amused, secret smile as she rolled out of bed.

She threw a paper ball at me, which I caught, then turned and walked out her bedroom door.

xXx xXx xXx

Turns out my lady cooks like a pro.

I made embarassingly loud satisfied sounds as I ate the stuffed french toast she whipped up. We were sitting at her extremely small two seater dining room table, which had it's pros and cons. It was nice because I felt close to her, but was also not so nice becuase it was incredibly hard not to reach across the table and take her hand or rest my knees against hers under the table.

I finished eating before her and took up my new favorite hobby of staring at her. Of course I liked it because she was so originally appealing, but most of my pleasure in the activity came from the fact that it made her squirm.

"You're staring at me again."

"I know. It's fun."

"How is staring fun? You are so odd, Edward."

"Do you like saying my name as much as I like saying yours?" I wondered out loud, since I thought it in my drunk state the night before but had forgotten to ask.

"It's really annoying when you do that, by the way."

"Do what?"

"You ignore the question I ask and just ask one of your own instead, completely changing the subject."

"I have to ask things before I forget them."

"It's annoying."

"It's fine, Bella," I laughed, rolling my eyes. She'd get used to it. I could already tell she wasn't very annoyed by it at all, just perplexed. This girl did not like being out of control very often. "So, do you?"

"I forgot the question," she huffed, pretending to be bothered by me.

"Do you like saying my name as much as I like saying yours?"

That flustered her. A fun rose color lit up her cheeks and reminded me of cupcakes for some reason. Always having to be difficult, she deflected the question.

"What kind of a questio-"

"I'm always honest with you, Bella. And I'm never afraid of what I sound like. Just answer my question."

She took a bite of her food as she glared at me for calling her out. Then she sighed, smiled, and said, "Yes, Edward. I love saying your name."

Finally. The smallest of specs of trust.

"I thought so. You said it over and over again in your sleep last night."

She shrugged a little bit and took another bite, surprising my with her lack of embarassment. I thought for sure my teasing would arouse fiestyness in her again. This girl was so odd. Some simple things were so hard for her to admit, others she brushed off as the minor details they were.

Still, I couldn't hid the prideful smile I wore. It was my name she thought of as she dreampt. Not and Indian name or some lame pretty boy from movies or TV.

Mine.

"So, what do you do?" she asked me curiously after finishing her last bite.

"For pleasure, or work, or what?"

"Both. Start with work though."

"I just got a job teaching an art class at the community college."

"You draw?"

"Yes, but I'm more inclined to painting, which is what I'm teaching."

She nodded a little bit and it was then that I noticed the red in her hair from the sun shining in through the window. It was pretty. I wanted to paint it. Embody it. Touch it.

"What's your pleasure, Edward?" she asked next, continuing the questioning and taunting me by making her lips a little more pouty than they were before. Or perhaps my imagination did that. I can never be sure.

"I used to enjoy writing, playing, and listening to music more than anything. Or reading. Or, well, painting I guess."

"Or drinking alone at your window?" she smirked.

"No," I defended. She was either teasing me or still completely unaware of the trauma I went through over her last night. "That's only something I do when I'm devestated."

She did this cute little disbeliving snort that made me laugh, then shook her head a little bit and dipped her finger in the syrup still pooled on her plate. I watched it with great interest, knowing it's next stop would be her mouth.

"So what is your favorite past time now? You said those things used to be your pleasures."

Sure enough the finger went in the mouth. She was being playful but something inside of me felt very serious.

"Uh, yeah. They got replaced. That would be your fault," I said with a bitter laugh, grabbing the plate from in front of her as I stood and took both of our plates to the sink, needing an excuse to move and have something to do besides watch her.

"I haven't taken away your iPod or your paintbrush," she laughed.

"No, but you're far more intriquing than anything I've ever known."

My words were so serious we both had to stop living for a second and just absorb each other. Our eyes locked, and for a moment I begged her heart to be better for me, to trust me, to let me in so that the pretending could stop.

Her eyes broke away, and she smiled softly but her answer was clear. It was what she'd already been telling me in the short time this thing took us over. She just wasn't ready.

"Well lucky for me, I don't have many hobbies for you to distract me from."

Her words were spoken low and I almost didn't catch all of them, but because I did, I smiled victoriously.

"Good luck with that. I'm a fun hobby to take up, but I'm a bad habit to kick, Swan."

She rolled her eyes and it was all right with me because they were happy looking and her damn tank top was riding up so that distracted me from being annoyed at her not taking my statement seriously.

"I already have some bad habits, so you don't frighten me."

"That's funny," I laughed bitterly. "I was under the impression that you were absolutely terrified of me. Or at least, what I might come to mean to you."

She sort of glared at me, then relented because I was speaking the fucking truth and we both knew it.

"You are scary, Edward. You came out of nowhere, and I don't understand anything about why I feel so strongly towards you, and last time I felt even half as drawn to someone as this-"

"James fucked everything up, I know," I sighed, sick of hearing his damn name already.

"Right. Well I can't help that my trust was shot to hell. It's not like you make it very easy to bounce back."

"Excuse me? I climbed in your window during that death storm last night, desperate for some Bella time. I think it's pretty damn clear that I want to be in your life."

"First of all, you need to stop being so dramatic about everything. The rainfall last night was not that bad. And it's not a question of whether or not you want to be here now, it's a question of whether or not you'll want to stay."

"You're the one that keeps telling me to leave."

"It's a defense mechanism," she said very very quietly.

"I know. That's why I haven't left yet."

I paused for dramatic effect.

It worked. My words were hanging in the air, and that was fine and dandy because they were serving a purpose, but I broke the silence after a few beats because I had more important thigns to discover.

"What else about me scares you, Bella? Aside from the fact that I have two legs that can, but won't, carry me away from you someday."

I observed the disbelief and mistrust fight inside of her as she breathed deeply then gathered a response for me.

"You're definitley too attractive to trust," she began, making me laugh. Out loud.

"That's a shit response, Swan. I can't help how yummy I am."

"Oh my God. I knew I shouldn't have used that one..."

"What else?" I pushed, still laughing at her bogus reason and feeling pleased as hell that she probably wanted to touch the shit out of me despite her inability to handle her body's physical reaction to our connection.

"How many girlfriends have you had?" she asked seriously, surprising me.

"Uh, none," I responed as I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling kind of awkward at the unexpected question.

"And why is that? Haven't you been attracted to any other women before? Have you never shown a girl a good time, Edward?" she kept asking questions, all cute and sure of herself and looking like she could hear my answers before I even knew them.

"I've shown girls some pretty great times," I admitted since I promised to be honestly with her, always, and I wasn't exactly ashamed of myself.

"But none of them have been someone you'd call a girlfriend?"

"Nope."

"Uh-huh."

And just like that she was smug and thought she was right, and I had no idea what the hell she was being smug or right about.

"Nah-uh. None of that girl code bullshit is allowed in our conversations," I demanded, actually wagging my finger at her. She was still smiling. "What are you 'uh-huhing'? I didn't say anything incriminating!"

"You've never had a relationship, but you've had plenty of experience with girls. It's scary, Edward. You're like the poster child of a, for lack of a better term, bad boy. I do not need to spell out why, you seem pretty intelligent."

She was still all smug, and it suited her, I have to say.

My left eye was twitching in agitation, though.

I almost argued with her. I did.

Then I really thought about it. And I guess all the peices were in place.

"Just because you're right doesn't mean I can't be different for you," I concluded, keeping the truth thing alive.

She looked truly frightened now, I'm guessing due to the fact that I wasn't even attempting to dispute her little accusation of my "bad boy" status.

"We'll see I guess."

I sighed and she looked sad. Then I got over that shit pretty quickly and wrote B + E with my finger in the syrup just to see how it looked and showed it to her.

She didn't really stop smiling after that.

We did the dishes together, kind of. She rinsed and washed. I whined about drying and flicked the towel at her bare legs until she stopped giggling and kicking at me and just took the thing herself and dried the plates.

I put the two plates away, onto the highest shelf that she wouldn't be able to reach on her own.

Sometimes I like to ensure people still need me.

"I have some stuff to do today, so I'm going to go get ready," she announced after she finished whining about my plate scheme.

"What are we doing today?"

"Rosalie and I are going shopping for halloween costumes, then having dinner with Jess."

"Tell them you'd rather hang out with me."

"That's rude, I'm not doing that."

"You guys see each other all the time, though. You and I have so much catching up to do."

I raised my eyebrows and gave her a "you know I'm right" look that normally works wonders. She didn't buy it. She's too damn nice for that kind of ditch-your-friends-for-me thing. We can work on that.

"I can't, Edward. They changed their schedules for me, specifically, because they... uh... wanted to cheer me up."

"Are you sad?" I asked, knowing she couldn't be with the way things were going between us.

"Not anymore."

"But you were."

"Yes."

"Because of me? Because I left and didn't tell you?"

"Yes."

"But you're happy now."

"I'm still going to dinner with them, Edward."

"Whatever. I know you are. Just tell me that you're happy now."

She turned to me and put her hands on her hips, but she didn't look upset at all.

"Yes. I'm very happy now."

"Because of me, right?"

She threw a pillow at me (I'd followed her into her bedroom again) and didn't reply. Because she was happy now thanks to me.

"Did you hear that Marie? Anthony?" I asked the doll heads that honestly still kind of disturbed me. "I make Bella happy."

I turned from the dolls to Bella, making sure she saw the giant fucking smile I wore soley for her benefit.

"Right now you're dangerously close to making Bella late," she warned.

She was talking to me as she gathered some things from around her room. It was so damn clean in here, unlike my room. I wasn't dirty, but I was cluttered, so it was nice to have open space to watch her move around in. Though thinking about that only made me want to watch her not move around in my cluttered space.

I popped my feet up on my newly claimed automan and yawned because the tequila overdose was still messing with my alertness.

Mid-yawn my feet got shoved off of their resting place.

"I'm taking a shower. Go home."

Well, that was cruel, was it not? I blinked a few times, ridding my head of the images of her skin soaking up water droplets.

"I don't think you're giving me very much motivation to leave."

I shot her another smirk, going for gold this time by giving her my pleading eyes.

The girl was made of stone sometimes.

"Leave or I'll kiss jake in front of you next time we're at Mike's."

"Ha. I call a bluff. You aren't going to do shit with the Indian kid anymore."

"Never say never, Edward."

"Your lips are mine, Bella."

Sometimes I take things too far.

This was one of those times.

She stilled completely and just stared at me with this look I'd never really seen before. She didn't look completely pissed, but I wouldn't call her expression pleased either. I'm pretty sure part of her liked my words, though. If she'd claim any part of me as hers I'd be doing fecking sumersualts all over her comfortable looking bed.

Still, perhaps my tone was a tad more serious than it could have been, considering we were supposed to be pretending we weren't freakishly obsessed with each other.

"Go home, Edward. I'll see you later."

She made a quick exit of the room and left me sitting there, at a loss. Girls are always so exciting in the beginning.

I pulled my beanie out of my pocket and stuck it back on as I began praying that the outside world wasn't too terribly fucking cold today. At least the rain had stopped. I stood up to leave, not wanting to push little Bella's fragile boundaries. I also needed a shower pretty badly myself. My slept in, rain soaked clothes were probably less than attractive.

I walked to the window and shut it. No need to take the death trap tree when front doors were available today.

Before I walked out the front door I put my red shoes in a line with her small ones that I had noticed strewn acorss the hard wood floor sometime the night before. I didn't mind being barefoot, and I thought it was sort of cute how we had matching shoes, even though I wasn't certain she wore hers as much as I lived in mine.

The four converse were neatly lined up; 2 very small ones then 2 very large ones. I was just wanting to leave something of mine in her space, just so she would get out of the shower, then come home later, then wake up tomorrow and see part of me there, with her. We weren't taking anymore steps backwards, that was my goal. I learned my damn lesson about leaving. Now she'd have to struggle to get me out of her life.

Before I left the room I turned back to the row of shoes and felt satisfied. Then I almost gagged at what this girl was doing to me.

xXx xXx xXx

After I showered and played the piano for a bit, getting a tune out of me that reminded me of the curve of Bella's hips, I grew bored.

I wondered breifly if I could track her down, stalk her a little bit as she hung out with Emmett's devil woman and Jess. I finally came to the conclusion that maybe the man Bella needed didn't stalk women. Maybe he was better than that. Maybe he was an all around good guy.

I could probably be good. For a while.

I sighed and fussed with my hair a bit. I really did want to be good for her, not just to trick her into trusting a good version of me. I had this overwhelming urge to go find her, though. Like being separated was making my insides fall apart.

Thinking about it was a bitch.

After deciding that I was not in the mood to debate whether or not stalking Bella would fall under the "good boy" category, I got up to go out and grab some food to distract myself with.

On my way back to my apartment, while singing loudly to The Rolling Stones and drvinging slightly over the speed limit thanks to my excitement over the chinese food that was filling my precious volvo with it's delicious aroma, I encountered a jackass in an El Camino.

The idiot was tailgating me, pissing me off something fierce.

Eventually Mr. In a Huge Fucking Hurry whipped around me, illegally, and annoyingly slowed down once he was happily coasting in front of me.

Everything would have been fine after that. He can be a jackass, that's great. We'd eventually be done driving on the same road and he could go back to pissing the general driving public off. But then he put my car in danger.

Out of nowhere the El Camino's breaks slammed on, nearly forcing me to careen into the back of his car. Luckily I just tapped the back of it, most likely not doing any damage to either vehicle, but seriously putting my heart's health in danger.

Jackass Major pulled over like a smart boy. We don't need any high speed chases occurring while I'm trying to be on my best behavior for the lady. I pulled over behind the black and white El Camino and took two deep breaths before opening my door and stepping out.

The other guy was already out of his car, leaning against his door and smirking at me. That needed to end.

"Hey man, you almost scratched my car," Jackass had the nerve to say as he gestured towards the back of the Jackass Mobile.

He was either completely legit, or a complete tool. He had longish blonde hair that kind of curled and didn't look much more tamable than the mess on my head which I was currently pulling at. He wore aviators and a leather jacket. Cowboy boots. Ripped jeans. Smelled of pot.

I decided to hold off on punching him in the mouth like he deserved. We could be on to something good here.

"I'm sorry, Jackass. It seems I didn't notice how close I almost came to hitting your car. I was too busy trying to keep Lola a safe distance away from your manic driving."

"What's a Lola?" he asked with a clear mixture of intrique and confusion.

"Lola is my car. That's neither here nor there, though. What's wrong with you? Why the hell did you stop like that, Jackass?"

I still wasn't hitting him, but the agitation sure hadn't left the building.

"My name isn't Jackass, man. It's Jasper. Whitlock. And, Lola? Really? That's a bitch name, brother."

He cocked one cocky eyebrow at me and then shot a judgemental look over towards my lovely silver Lola. Then he smirked, making me pretty damn sure he was making fun of my car in his head.

I was thrown.

This guy just didn't care about anything he said or did. Like me.

And he smirked at secret things, probably a device he perfected once he figured out that ladies always want to know any and all secrets, especially ones related to smirks. Like me.

He would make a good wingman, I realized instantly. And not an Alice wing man... you know, one that's there just because you have no one else to do your dirty work. This guy was potentially my counterpart, but far more chilled out than I ever seemed to be.

Did Bella-persuing guys have wingmen?

I'd only use him on her. That wouldn't be against any "good guy" rules, would it?

I pondered this for a second as Jasper the Jackass pulled a joint out of his pocket and lit up, right in the middle of our minor one-sided throw down.

Maybe he was just a Crazy. Maybe I should just get him good and pissed and then hit the road and get back to the delicious oriental goodness that was probably growing cold in my passenger seat.

"First of all, Jasper, I'm not your brother-"

"Do you have a sister?"

Bella's right. That random question things is fucking annoying.

"Yeah, Alice. But she doesn't have anything do with this," I replied, letting him know I was annoyed.

"Alice," he spoke slowly, smiling darkly and making my fist pretty ready to meet his face. "Is she hot?"

"Gross," I spat, not wanting to ever, ever assess the hotness of my sister.

"So... yes, then?" he asked, smirking again.

"Why are you even asking me this?"

"You said we weren't brothers. I'm just trying to figure out if we could be."

Oh my nausea.

"Are you honestly inquiring about getting together with my baby sister?"

He was bold, which I respected. I wasn't one to beat around the bush either.

I couldn't make up my mind about this guy.

Jackass or wingman? Jackass or wingman?

"I most definitely am inquiring about the hotness of your little sister," he replied while blowing out a long puff of smoke. It smelt good. I quit pot a while ago, it makes me paranoid-ish and dramatic even in my standards, but I was around it a lot and was weird enough to find it comforting.

I wondered at Bella's feelings about pot. Then I missed looking at her lips.

"Unless she's not too easy on the eyes," Jasper continued, breaking me of my Bella distraction, "I'm not a shallow son of a bitch, but I know what I like. There are somethings a man just can't compromise on, you know man? That's mine. I like them spicy."

He laughed a detached stoner laugh for a second and then nodded a little bit, amusing both of us in different ways with his words.

Just as I was about to lay into this guy about my sister being better than a pot-smoking death-race driving hipster, the impossible happened.

He unzipped his jacket and revealed a Muddy Waters T-shirt.

Holy Wingman.

"Muddy?" I nearly whimpered, because Muddy Waters always got me. He was the best blues guy out there, hands down, ever. He was a legend. He was responsible for so many of today's Rockstar legends. He was a sensation in old time Chicago. He was one of my heros. He wasn't very well known by my generation.

He was on Jasper Whitlock's shirt.

Muddy was a sign. God brought this dirty new millenium hippie to me, I knew it. What right did I have to deny God's gifts?

Thus began my bromance with the Jasper.

"I'm Edward," I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.

"Pleasure," Jasper laughed, either at my gentlemanly ways or the growing twinkle of fondness in my eye. Or the pot induced haze he was surely entering into. Or all of the above.

"My sister will probably be here in a week and a half. I'll introduce you. She should probably have your babies," I blabbered.

"Sounds good, man," he laughed releasing my hand.

I laughed with him, again getting that giddy feeling I hadn't know existed until I came here and found Bella.

"In the meantime, would you like to jam sometime? Tonight, maybe? I have blues records. And chinese food. And I'm trying to keep myself from stalking this girl that will probably be the love of my life if she ever gets over her annoying ass trust issues. Also, I'd like to enlist you as my wingman if you choose to accept the responsibility. Which pretty much just involves helping me get Bella over said annoying ass trust issues."

He looked confused for a second, scaring me because I was already in love with the idea of finding a guy like him that wasn't a total tool. Emmett was rad, don't get me wrong. Meeting him three weeks ago was an unforgettable experience. But the Big E and I had nothing in common, really. So watching Jasper become critical about our union was probably allowing me to feel a fraction of how Bella said she felt all the time with me.

Then he nodded once and smiled. And no hippie mother fucker has ever broken my heart, so unlike Bella that was all I needed as confirmation that Jasper and I would be together for life.

"I don't know about all that trust issue business, Edward, but I'm down for a wingman gig. The jam sesh and the chinese food sound pretty alright, too. And of course Alice."

He winked about the Alice comment and I wasn't even upset. I would marry them myself.

Now I just had to make sure Bella loved him as much as I did.

Who's been an iconic musician/band in your life?

Send me your thoughts, they amuse me.

LOVE YOUS

-Car